Making my way to the only open booth, sliding in by the wind. Taking my coat off settling in to read the Times. A few minutes pass before“Er! Excuse...me is this seat taken?” looking up from an article on Heathrow expansion, seeing the gentleman from the line, trembling holding a tray“No feel free!” return to my paper as he sit, suddenly feeling a little self conscious about my appearance for some strange reason. Without even looking up I can tell that my new booth mate is checking me out a. Jen leans in with the pen to sign the paper, momentarily forgetting her backside is exposed. “I have always wondered what that beautiful ass looked like.” Mr. Stone states as his eyes follow the green string over the top of her ass and down between her firm ass cheeks. “Really, sir? And what do you mean always wondered?” Standing back up. Turning back, Mr. Stone, flips through a few more pages before landing on the next signature. “Well, why do you think I’m always calling you over? I’m not a. More

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